


Torn Apart

by E707



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (2014), Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Grocket is my new weakness, I had to get on board this ship, Major Spoilers, Other, Post-ending story, attempting to sexualise a tree, lord have mercy, please DO NOT read before you have watched the movie, sad Rocket is sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-05
Updated: 2014-08-05
Packaged: 2018-02-11 21:59:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2084631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/E707/pseuds/E707
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Groot had always been affectionate with Rocket, but they had never done anything like this, not before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Torn Apart

**Author's Note:**

> This story has MAJOR SPOILERS for the movie, as it takes place post-ending! I can not urge you more strongly to see the movie before you read this fic. 
> 
> I was completely inspired by the (way too few) Groot/Rocket stories here on Ao3 and felt I had to contribute to get this ship sailing!
> 
> It is slightly AU to the movie ending, but only in minor ways, such as how long it takes Groot to regenerate to his former self. Also I have referred to Groot as 'him' in this story, because he seems to be generally considered a 'him' despite being an asexual life form, and it is incredibly difficult to write about a character without using pronouns, ok?
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

It was a big, lonely universe - Rocket had learnt that the hard way.

In the end, the only one you could count on was you. He knew this implicitly. Irrevocably. And yet, whenever he thought of Groot's big, stupid face smiling down at him, Rocket wasn't so sure he believed it anymore.

He had counted on Groot for a lot of things. More than he had ever counted on anyone. And Groot, for his part, had only ever followed Rocket, wherever Rocket went - and he liked to think that that meant Groot had counted on him for something, as well.

The day he held in his hands the charred, broken branches that had once been his friend, Rocket's heart stopped beating.

It all happened so quickly. One minute they were sticking to the plan, then the ship was going down, and before Rocket knew it he was standing in the ruins of Xandar, and Groot was gone. He chose to save them, and they had saved the whole damn universe, so Rocket took the gratitude showered on him quietly, and shed his tears when he was alone with a bottle of liquor.

He kept a single burnt little stick in his jacket pocket, where it stayed for days until he had consumed enough liquid courage to pull it out and look at it again. As Rocket held it in his hand, claws wrapped around the thin, dead piece of wood, he cursed himself.

Everyone left eventually. He was stupid to think Groot would be any different.

But that didn't stop it hurting.

The people of Xandar waved the newly-appointed 'Guardians of the Galaxy' off of their planet with good graces and clean records, but Rocket felt bitter all the same. None of them cared that Groot had died. No one cared, not the way Rocket did.

Wherever they went after that, whatever shanty town or shady bar they found themselves in, Rocket found a fight. Within an hour, as soon as he had downed a few shots and fire was running in his veins, guns would be blazing. Then the Guardians would be there, the situation would be handled one way or another, and Rocket would crawl back to his quarters on the ship to fall into a dreamless, painless sleep.

It continued like this for weeks, until the others seemed to decide amongst themselves that something needed to be done. Quill took to drinking with him into the early morning and Gamora talked to him with sad understanding shining in her eyes, but it was Drax that put the pot in his hands, and helped Rocket plant his sad little twig carefully in a mound of rich soil, the kind Groot had always liked.

Rocket sobered up after that. He took the pot with him everywhere, and the Guardians had the good grace never to comment. It sat with him at the bridge, waited for him in his quarters when he was away, and was perched beside him every night as he slept. It was the last thing he saw before he drifted away, and the first thing he saw when he woke.

He couldn't remember exactly when he began talking to it. It seemed natural, at the end of the day, to tell it everything that had happened, how everyone was getting on. He told it about the places the Guardians travelled to, the criminals they'd taken down, admitted to it that Drax might be an alright guy after all, and recounted to it the times he had caught Quill and Gamora getting cosy on the bridge.

Then the day came, after all that fruitless care, day in and day out of patting the soil and watering the stagnant wood, Rocket walked past his potted companion only to do a double-take.

There, small and tenuous but definitely there, was a tiny, translucent green leaf, sprouting from Rocket's shriveled, broken stick.

A cry of triumph that woke the entire ship tore itself from Rocket's throat, and from that day, the Guardians of the Galaxy were whole again.

Every day, the sprig grew greener, sprouting arms, then fingers, and then one day a face appeared in the head-like bulb that sat atop the vine-covered mass, dark little eyes locked squarely on his own, and Rocket's heart beat again for the first time since he stood in the wreckage of Xandar.

Rocket began having dreams, then. Of the day they defeated Ronan and took back the Infinity Stone. Well, not the entire day, exactly. Just one particular moment. When a cocoon of entwined branches had surrounded him, and he was asking Groot why, why he was doing this, and Groot had smiled and stroked his cheek. He awoke every time in a sweat, heart pounding and fists clenched, and Groot's voice echoing in his head.

_"We are Groot."_

He couldn't always look the plant in the eye any more.

Everyone called it Groot now, and they no longer stared after Rocket sympathetically as he carried his pot around, instead opting to babysit the growing Flora Colossus as they went about their day. Quill chattered away at it as he piloted the ship, Gamora enjoyed having it with her when she meditated, and Drax claimed that it danced when no one was looking.

Before long, Groot had outgrown his pot, was consuming increasingly large amounts of water and seeking out any warm light source he could find. Before their eyes he would grow, and his skin turned from fleshy green to hardened brown as he swelled in strength and size.

It happened gradually. One day he had a tiny wriggling sprig in a pot, and the next it was Rocket's old friend that stood towering before him.

Corded vines and wide plates of bark made the expanse of Groot's torso, as wide as Rocket remembered it. Broad shoulders weaved into thick, powerful arms, and plated hips crowned heavy, sturdy legs. He was Groot again, and when he smiled down at Rocket, the raccoon could have burst from how goddamn _good_ it felt, if not for the other emotion that sat bubbling beneath his skin.

Groot was back. His friend had survived, despite being blown to bits. Rocket should be overjoyed. He should feel relieved. He shouldn't be this _angry_.

But he was.

The other Guardians couldn't get enough of Groot, now that he was back. Rocket supposed they felt grateful that Groot had sacrificed himself to save them, and maybe a little guilty that he had received none of the praise from Nova Prime afterward. They kept patting Groot on the back, and including him in every conversation, and taking him with them everywhere they went.

Groot noticed the way Rocket kept his distance, of course. How could he not? But the Colossus didn't try to go after him when Rocket pointedly left the ship to wander Knowhere on his own, or when the raccoon retired to his quarters earlier than everyone else. In fact, Groot didn't try to approach him or impose his presence on Rocket at all, until the day came that Rocket could no longer avoid him.

They had been tailing a mercenary group hired by Gamora's crazy sister to clean out the quadrant of Nova informants, and had finally tracked them to their base on a desolate dwarf planet teeming with security. Two squads were required to take the mercenaries out - infiltration, which comprised of Quill, Gamora, and Drax; and neutralisation, which, naturally, were Rocket and Groot.

They ferried onto the planet with a group of wealthy space tourists, posing as prospective employers. It took them all of ten minutes to take out the external guard, and then they were in. The infiltration team took to the main doors, guns at the ready, and it was Rocket's job to see that they got through the base alive. He and Groot carved their way through the kitchens, the barracks, and finally to the control room.

A bullet curved to his right and very nearly clipped his ear before Rocket had time to lift his gun, but by the time he had, Groot was already there, plowing mercenaries left and right as Rocket rained gunfire down on them all.

Groot was everywhere at once, stretching his long limbs around one man's chest and through another's neck, and Rocket needed only duck every now and then under the assault of whipping branches to pick off every last man in the room.

Alarms where shrieking all around them as the last body plunked to the floor, and Rocket was on it in an instant, his tiny clawed hands gliding over the security dashboard, pushing a lever here and sniping a wire there, until a sound like a dying ship engine could be heard, and in seconds the security cameras drooped, the lights around them dimmed.

"Okay, good work guys," Quill's voice crackled in Rocket's ear over the comm system. "We're charging ahead to take out the big guy, stay put and stay tuned."

"Copy that." Rocket replied, and flipped the switch on his gun.

Suddenly, they were alone.

He could feel Groot standing behind him, and knew that he was watching him.  

Rocket made no move to turn around. The thought of even looking at the Flora Colossus was suddenly paralyzing, and so he stood rigidly still, facing the control panel.

An eternity of heavy silence seemed to pass before, for the very first time since his return, Groot reached out a hand and touched him.

Rocket's entire body flinched when Groot's long, hard fingers landed gently on his shoulder, and he whipped around, only to be faced with Groot's confused expression.

"I am Groot." The Colossus said quietly, and there was no mistaking the hurt in his tone.

Maybe it was the look on Groot's face, or the adrenaline still rushing through his system from the fight, but just like that, the rage Rocket had been keeping locked up inside came roaring to the surface.

"You _left_ me!" Rocket shrieked, and the voice barely sounded like his own. "You fucking _died_ on me!"

Groot recoiled his hand in surprise, but his gaze became immensely sad. He kneeled down before Rocket and keened low in his throat, a desperate sound.

"What the _fuck_ was I supposed to do? I would never have done that to you!" Rocket howled, and even through his anger he couldn't keep the tears from pricking at his eyes. "You _gave up!_ "

Rocket didn't have it in him to resist when Groot's hands abruptly took hold of him and brought him into a crushing embrace.

" _Groooo_..." Groot was crooning sadly, apologetically, and somehow it managed to draw it all out of Rocket. Suddenly he was sobbing into the Colossus's broad moss-covered chest the way he had done the day he kneeled in Groot's charred remains, and the pain felt as fresh as a gaping wound.

"You idiot!" Rocket cried as he wept, his fists beating weakly against Groot's massive chest. "You stupid tree, what were you thinking?"

"I am Groot..." Groot replied imploringly.

"Never asked you to save me." Rocket grumbled, as he leaned back to look Groot in the eye, to show him how much it had hurt. "How would you like it, huh? If I went and died on you?"

" _Grooooooooooo_..."

"Yeah, that's what I thought." Rocket sniffed.

For all that he had spent these past weeks avoiding any contact with Groot, he made no move to escape the Flora Colosuss's hold on him where they sat on the floor. And despite all the effort he had made never to look him in the eye, Rocket could no longer look away. Groot's big, dark eyes were filled with an emotion Rocket couldn't entirely place, but understood implicitly, and when he rose a clawed hand to lay it gently on Groot's hard, wooden cheek, the Flora Colossus thrummed, deep and familiar.

"I thought I'd never see you again." He whispered, afraid suddenly to say it.

Comprehension filled Groot's fathomless eyes, and he rose a hand to cup the back of Rocket's head.

"I am Groot." He said, and when he brought his hand down Rocket's back, stroking all the way to his tail, Rocket felt electrified.

He didn't say a word as Groot, receiving no objection, brought his hand up and down Rocket's body once again. And then again. Lingering a little longer, slowly over his back, down his hips, and over his sensitive tail.

Rocket's mouth was open, but no sound was coming out. Before he realised it, his own hands were laying flat on Groot's chest, moving down. They continued on like this, pressing closer, caressing each other, a little more purposeful every time.

Groot had always been affectionate with Rocket, but they had never done anything like this, not before.

Heat was pooling low in his stomach and in a sudden, brave move, Rocket removed his jacket and tossed it aside. Groot's hands were instantly there, flowing over his fur, and when they hit the hem of his pants, they were removed too.

All it was, was stroking. Both of them rubbing gently against each other, hands smoothing fur and scratching bark. There would hardly be anything sexual about it at all, if Rocket wasn't hard between them.

Groot was watching Rocket intently as the raccoon panted, shaking a little, wide-eyed with wonder and just a little fear. No one had ever touched him this way, and, Rocket thought, probably not Groot either.

Rocket's claws raked over Groot's shoulders, down his large pectoral plates, and to his abdomen. He tried to be light, not to leave any scratches, but the harder he pressed, the bolder Groot became.

When Groot's hands started stoking down his stomach, close to where his arousal sat, hard and swollen, Rocket gasped.

Groot stopped still instantly.

"No, no, it's good," Rocket breathed, and he felt simultaneously drunk and more focused than he could ever remember being, as he picked up Groot's large hands in his own and guided them back to his chest. "Really, buddy... it-it's good."

Groot hesitated, but his eyes remained locked on Rocket's as he carefully swept his hand down once again, brushing Rocket's phallus intentionally and adopting an expression of awe when Rocked moaned low and long.

" _Groooo_..." The Colossus thrummed in response, and touched him again.

Rocket's nerves were dancing, every inch of his skin was tingling, every stand of fur standing on end. There were a million thoughts flying through his head, but all of them were of Groot - how amazingly large he was, and impossibly gentle, and really there had always been something beautiful about him, hadn't there?

There were words stuck in Rocket's throat, words he'd meant to say, always, but then never could.

It wasn't much of a kiss, the end of Rocket's snout pressed to the firm line of Groot's mouth, but Rocket's heart was pounding against his ribs, and Groot hummed deeply. Rocket was touching every part of Groot that he could find, mapping every dip and crevice, memorising the contours of his face.

One of Groot's hands was entirely dedicated to _that spot_ now, carefully stroking him up and down, while the other roamed his back, combed through the fur of his chest, and elicited increasingly louder whines and embarrassing mewls from Rocket.

Rocket clung to Groot desperately, rocking his hips into the Colosuss's hand, breathing in the earthy scent that Groot emitted.

Groot was making a groaning, creaking sound that Rocket had never heard before as he rubbed his face against Rocket's own, his long, rough fingers finding parts of Rocket that the raccoon hadn't even known he wanted touched.

At last, he couldn't hold out any longer, and under Groot's intense, open gaze the pleasure spiked, and the Flora Colossus made a sound as like a falling tree.

Rocket came with a shout, and when the spores burst from between Groot's plates, explosively filling the air around them with a thousand, thousand tiny lanterns, Rocket nearly had a heart attack.

As he stared at Groot, the Colossus's powerful arms shuddering gently as they held him, eyes wide and deep with warmth, Rocket also realised he was in love.

"This has to be a joke," he whispered, voice hoarse and broken, as the entire room seemed to glow. "I'm getting off with a tree."

Groot hummed in agreement, and gathered Rocket tightly to his chest before he dropped on to his back, vine-like fingers petting sweat-dampened fur as he promptly began to drift off to sleep.

"Hey," Rocket laughed, slapping Groot's chest lightly, unreasonably elated.  "No sleeping, we have to wait for the signal. They're counting on us."

"I am Groot." Groot replied, and Rocket couldn't argue with that logic, resigning himself instead to a few minutes of languid post-coital bliss.

"Uh, guys?" Quill's voice filtered through the receiver on Rocket's jacket some feet away, shattering the moment. "You know the comm is still on, right?"


End file.
